


fifteen

by stellaviatorii



Category: Band of Brothers
Genre: First Kiss, Fluff, M/M, One Shot, Trans Male Character
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-08-18
Updated: 2015-08-18
Packaged: 2018-04-15 09:51:49
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,122
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4602267
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/stellaviatorii/pseuds/stellaviatorii
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>So, Joe has a crush on his best friend. It's no big deal.</p>
            </blockquote>





	fifteen

**Author's Note:**

  * For [drugdog](https://archiveofourown.org/users/drugdog/gifts).



> it's [satan's](http://guarneretoye.tumblr.com) birthday, and I decided to celebrate by writing about his fave gays (with bonus americanisms, which, if u know me, is a stretch of effort for my sad australian ass)

There were three things Joe noticed the day he turned fifteen, and at least two of them were Luz’s fault. However, the third was far more earth-shattering than the thought that he was halfway to thirty: Joe lay completely still in his bed at 7am and quite casually realized he had a crush on his best friend.

In the grand scheme of things, this was a very big deal, since Bill was _Bill_ and Joe was a scrawny streak of antihistamines and rage. To him, waking up one morning and discovering that there was actually a reason to wanting Bill’s hand to brush his own was enough to make any teenager groan in acute despair. He knew as well as anyone that teenage flings rarely lasted, and if they did, they didn’t happen to 5’5 trans boys in South Philadelphia. Joe was more likely to catch a fucking meteorite with his bare hands than land a solid, lasting romantic relationship with Bill Guarnere.

(The jerk in his ribcage when he imagined Bill kissing back felt like catching the heavens out without a mitt)

The idea that he was interested in Bill in _that way_ consumed the entire day, and thankfully his Mom (bless her) picked up on this. She left him to his own devices, sliding a handful of dollars across the kitchen bench and suggesting that he spend the afternoon with friends. But then the catch-22 of the situation reared its ugly head: the only friend who was free that day was Bill. Joe took a moment to cuss out Buck and Babe for dragging everyone to California for the break as he pulled on his shoes. Of course he was gonna suffer on his birthday. Fuckin’ Murphy’s Law.The omniscient divine figure watching him from St Mary’s must have heard his whining, because the next thing Joe heard was Bill’s distinctive knock at the front door and subsequent hollering.

Two years ago, Bill hit the proverbial oil mine of growth spurts, going from zero to a hundred fast enough to give Joe whiplash. The bastard grew into his weird features, got enough muscle mass to make a middle schooler swoon, and to top it off, he’d already started T. To be completely honest, Joe didn’t know whether to shake him or kiss him.

Bill took him into town by bribing his elder brother to drive them; Henry always had a soft spot for Joe anyway, so the $20 Bill threw at his face was just a bonus. Joe was terse the entire ride, hyper-aware of how loud Bill’s presence was and how the same filtered sunlight touched both their faces and how if he leaned across the dirty seat, just a little, he could taste it on his lips. Bill attracted all the heat in a five mile radius and Joe was only starting to realize exactly what that meant.

The mall was relatively empty – a summer’s Tuesday beckoned poolside margarita’s more than an overstaffed wilting Taco Bell. Joe took it as a mixed blessing: there weren’t many people around to witness his tense, nervous attempts at normal conversation, but Bill was. They were wandering around a deserted aisle in Walmart when the air was quickly sucked away with, “You alright?”

“’m fine,” Joe muttered, turning to glare at a rack of discount Halloween costumes ( _Jesus Christ, it’s August, you fucking animals_ ). Bill made a disbelieving sound and etched closer, brow furrowed.

“C’mon, Joe, I ain’t blind. You’ve been actin’ weird and it’s killing the whole, y’know,” he wiggled his fingers vaguely, “birthday mood.”

“It’s my fuckin’ birthday,” Joe scowled, “I can kill the mood if I wanna.”

“So you admit you’re acting like a raccoon with a stick up its ass?”

“Fuck off.”

“Joe,” Bill said, deliberately slow and soft. “What’s wrong?”

And that was it, the breaking point, the precipice Joe was scrabbling to keep hold of. He didn’t know what he’d do if Bill kept pushing and that was terrifying. There’s something about being best friends that makes the concept of white lies null and void – he could dodge the truth a thousand different ways, but Bill would sniff it out eventually. That’s what friends are for.

All the cognitive dissonance was giving Joe one motherfucker of a headache.

“Nothing’s wrong,” he insisted in a last-ditch attempt. “Seriously, Bill, shut up about it already, would ya?”

Bill couldn’t look more incredulous if his eyebrows had detached themselves from his head and risen into the stratosphere. “Bullshit.”

“What do you want me to say, I’ve got cancer or some shit?”

“No,” Bill paused. “You…don’t actually have cancer though, right?” Joe sighed heavily, shaking his head as the distraction crumbled. “Well, what the fuck are you mopin’ about?”

 _You, Bill,_ he wanted to yell. _It’s you and your big hands and bigger heart and voice like a goddamn snake charmer and maybe that’s all I am to you, a fucking tool, this thing you have to humor, and I should hate it but I don’t. I don’t because I woke up this morning and realized you’re it, you’re the only guy who’s ever gonna make me feel like this, and I don’t have to be Gene’s grandma or that weird-ass psychic from the French Quarter to know that this is it, that I_ – “I told you. Nothing.”

He’s blushing from his forehead to the itchy spot just below his binder.

Fuck.

People talk about switches flipping in their heads all the time, but Joe had never seen it happen til Bill’s eyes lit up like a thousand watt light bulb. He was practically luminous, all 135 pounds jacked up with pure electricity, and what he wouldn’t give to –

Oh. Well. Kiss him, like Bill currently was.

It was 2pm on his birthday and Joe Toye’s lower lip was snagged between Bill Guarnere’s teeth. They were pressed together in an empty corner of Walmart and Bill did taste like sunlight, and Reese’s, and an innumerable count of things that Joe burned to memorize, and for them, nothing could come close to this exhilaration. It’s not as if pop rocks had exploded in his veins or that the world had fallen out from beneath their feet, but it was kinda like: _hey there. It’s me. Welcome home._

In retrospect, it was better than anything Joe could have imagined.

Bill eventually pulled back, grinning broadly, and Joe was laughing before he could stop himself, because everything felt real and not-real at the same time, and Bill was holding Joe’s face in barely shaking hands and aching ribs and the entire future sparkling at their fingertips. Here’s the last thing Joe noticed the day he turned fifteen: sometimes, the universe smiles back.

**Author's Note:**

> [tumblr](http://punkxmen.tumblr.com)


End file.
